


Wash Away Your Worries

by silverlining99



Series: Rain [1]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Academy Era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-15
Updated: 2009-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-28 19:17:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverlining99/pseuds/silverlining99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk can actually make bad pick-up lines work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wash Away Your Worries

**Author's Note:**

> st_xi_kink meme response, prompt: "Bones x Kirk, academy days. caught in the rain, have sex outside in the rain, I DONT CARE AS LONG AS THEY ARE SOAKING FUCKING WET HAVING SOAKING WET SEX, can be pwp."

He spends the first couple months getting acclimated, working frantically to prove to himself, if nobody else, that he’s not actually in way over his head, that he can learn alien physiology and diseases as well as anything else he’d covered in medical school. When he finally lets himself come up for air and accepts an invitation to go out for the evening with a few of the other medical cadets, he’s somehow not surprised in the slightest to find Jim Kirk sidling up late in the evening. He hasn’t seen the kid since the shuttle; they take different classes, move in different circles. He’s heard plenty, though.

“Hey,” Kirk says, nodding his greeting as well. “Come here often?”

McCoy can’t help but snort. “You say that like it’s a line.”

Jim laughs, but watches him thoughtfully. “Could be, if you wanted.”

He rolls his eyes. “You wanna take a go at me, kid, you’ll have to do a damn sight better. I was using crappy pickups like that when you were nothing more than raging hormones and oozing acne.”

“Who says I’m anything more now?” Jim says in good humor. “I mean, sure, the acne went away, but the hormones? Still raging.”

“I’m sure they are,” McCoy says dryly. He sips his drink and leans back against the bar, bracing his elbows on it. “After all, it took you less than two months to become an Academy legend. Congratulations.”

“I’m a legend?” Jim gets a far-off look on his face, like he’s just wandered into a daydream and gotten lost.

“Trust me, once us geeks over at Medical have to take our heads out of the books long enough to hear a rumor, it’s legendary. There any truth to the one about you, an Andorian, a Tellarite, and a Vulcan doing a pornographic reenactment of the charter signing?”

“A kernel of truth, sure.” He shrugs. “That’s all I can say, honest. I took a vow of secrecy.”

“Riiiight.”

“No joke, I did. I’ll tell you, though, the things an Andorian can do with her antennae…”

“Good god, you really are as bad as the stories.”

“I’m kind of hurt that you doubted it. So – nice shoes. Wanna fuck?”

McCoy’s lips twitch into a poorly-disguised smile. “That really the best you can do?”

“You really need me to do better?” Jim challenges, fixing a brutally open, honest, inviting gaze on McCoy.

To hell with it, McCoy thinks. He hasn’t had sex in nearly a year, since months before Jocelyn finally came out and admitted she wanted a divorce, and if this arrogant prick of a kid with cocksucking lips wants him... His cock stirs insistently. He downs the last of his drink and pushes off the bar. “Let’s go,” he orders sharply.

They don’t realize it’s raining until they actually step out into the street, and within seconds it’s too late to bother giving a damn or trying to do anything about it. He feels his hair plaster down against his scalp and shakes his head, rakes his fingers through the sopping mess as he looks at Jim. The kid is glowing and sparkling all at once, lit up by the vintage neon signs in the bar windows and glistening with raindrops - rolling down his face, catching on his lashes - and he laughs, turning his face to the sky. “Damn,” he says cheerfully, then sticks his tongue out to catch rain on it.

The desire, temporarily forgotten in the chill of the startling storm, twists again deep in McCoy’s belly. He clenches his jaw and grabs Jim firmly by the arm, propels him up the block until the building facades break open into a dark alley that cuts through to the next street. He pulls Jim deep enough in to be tucked away from the light and noise spilling in from either end, shoves the kid against the wall and kisses him.

Day-end breath and alcohol and fresh water. McCoy can’t help but suck hard at Jim’s tongue and tug at his lip, the long months of deprivation straining him past the breaking point. The rain keeps crashing down on his head and his shoulders and his back, keeps tickling lines down his back as water rolls down his neck and under his collar. Jim gives as good as he gets and twists agile fingers in McCoy’s hair, fighting for his own measure of control. When McCoy resists relinquishing it he groans disapproval into McCoy’s mouth and shoves forward to turn them around.

And then he drops to his knees and McCoy tilts his face to the rain and waits.

It isn't the worst place he's ever had sex; it isn't the best, either, but it’s far from the worst. His hormones had raged as much as anyone else’s, once, and he’d made his share of stupid choices. He can tune it out easily enough as Jim frees the leather strap of his belt from one side of the buckle and tugs hard to release the cinch, makes short work of the rest of the process.

Jim doesn't lean in right away, just palms McCoy's hips. When McCoy glances down to see what the hold up is, Jim is looking up at him through his lashes and smirking a little. "Quit posing and touch me already," McCoy grumbles, but he graces Jim with a quick stroke of his hand against one wet cheek. "Goddamn pretty boys and their egos," he says under his breath.

"Oh, my ego is based on way more than my looks," Jim laughs. "You'll see. I've got skills."

"So what are you waiting for?" He slouches back against the wall, his hips canting forward. The rain, cool as it is against his cock, is doing nothing to take the edge off. "Impress me."

"Were you this wham, bam, thank you, ma'am with your wife? Geez, no wonder you wound up -" McCoy cuts him off with a light smack to the side of his head. "All right, all right!" Jim risks a look up and McCoy grants him a wry smile to show he isn’t really annoyed. At last Jim curls his fingers slowly around McCoy's length and pumps slowly, three, four, five times, then finally shuffles closer and bows his head to close his lips around the tip, chasing the circlet of his hand as far as he can. McCoy hisses at the wet heat engulfing him, at the contrast against the chill of the rain still pouring down on them, pattering loudly on the ground. His hips jerk and force more of his cock into Jim's mouth. "Christ, kid."

Jim murmurs unintelligibly in response, the vibration of the sound and the flicking of his tongue combining to make McCoy curse outright and press his hands to the wall on either side of him. It’s that or take fistfuls of Jim's hair, fuck his mouth relentlessly; someday, maybe, he tells himself, but for now there are boundaries and proprieties to observe.

Then he has to laugh at himself for envisioning a code of conduct to apply to getting blown in a back alley during a flash storm, then laugh even more at the idea of Jim Kirk marking the same territory more than once.

Jim draws back and sucks in deep breaths as he strokes his fist along McCoy's cock in fast, hard jerks. His palm slides easily over the spit-wet length and his thumb - christ, the kid's thumb is a genius all on its own, adding pressure in just the right spots. McCoy feels the tension gathering, knows he can't take much more, and when Jim leans back in and takes him deep, deep enough to bump the back of his throat, and doesn't even _gag_ , McCoy gasps "fuck!" and comes without any further warning.

Jim licks him clean and tucks him away as he slumps against the wall and tries to catch his breath. "C'mere," McCoy finally growls, grabbing at Jim's shoulders and tugging him to his feet. He turns Jim against the wall again and pushes in close, kisses him hard. "You weren't supposed to do that," he mutters, nipping at Jim's lower lip. “Not as young as I used to be.”

“I can wait, s’fine” Jim pants against his mouth, but he hooks one leg around McCoy and rocks forward helplessly.

McCoy fucks Jim’s mouth lazily with his tongue for a few minutes, then skids a damp line along Jim’s slick jaw, down his throat. “Or you could fuck me,” he offers off-handedly, right against the staccato beat of Jim’s pulse. Jim makes a strangled noise and clutches McCoy’s ass with both hands, grinds hard against him. “I’ve never done it before - been fucked,” he murmurs. He keeps his voice steady, clinical, hiding the panic that his own words make rise in his throat, even as he brings his mouth back to Jim’s and kisses him hungrily. He forces a hand between them and cups it over Jim’s crotch, palpates gently. “You want that, kid?” It comes out rougher than he intended, but he goes with it. It’s all he can do when he can’t make heads or tails of anything he’s doing; he just wants to keep Jim strung out and writhing and happy because it’s worked so far. “Wanna be balls-deep inside me? Wanna show me what a goddamn stallion you really are?”

It’s hard to even get the words out, Jim’s lips tearing hungrily at his with no mercy. McCoy firms his grip and rubs purposefully at the bulge against his palm. “God, fuck...fuck, oh _fuck_ ,” Jim groans, and then he slides his hand between them to cover McCoy’s and guide him, manipulate McCoy into working him harder, just _so_ \- he shudders and comes in his pants.

McCoy leans against him, enjoying the slow easing of their kisses from frantic to lazy, almost affectionate. Jim is the one to break it off; he lets his head fall back against the wall behind him and laughs towards the sky through swollen, bruised lips. “Well,” he says, his voice calm at last. Even in the dark he’s sparkling, and McCoy wants him all over again. “This is gonna make getting home a little uncomfortable.”

McCoy fights the indulgent smile that pulls at his mouth. “Raging hormones,” he grumbles, but pats Jim’s shoulder as he steps back. “Tell you what - keep your bitching to a minimum and you can come back to my room. It’s a lot closer.”

“Is it gonna bother you neighbors?”

“What the hell do my neighbors have to do with anything?”

“Just don’t want to cause any problems.” Jim rolls his shoulders to lever himself away from the wall. “I can be pretty loud.”

McCoy stares at him. “You...”

“McCoy. Leonard. _Bones_. You wanna stand here gaping all night, or you wanna go home and fuck me stupid?” Jim grins and leans forward to kiss him quickly, pat his crotch. “‘Cause I have done it before and I'm pretty impatient to do it again, so soon as junior there is ready, I want him pounding my ass. You okay with that?”

McCoy swallows hard, reality suddenly crashing in, trying hard not to be ignored. “Jim. This isn’t a good idea.”

“We don’t know each other that well, so I’ll let it slide this once. But sooner or later you’ll learn - all my ideas are _great_ ideas.”


End file.
